A Slow-Dance with Senator Amidala
by Error Code 401
Summary: Pretty self-explanatory, right? WRONG! Degrading comments, bad publicity, a live broadcasting last-resort - my, oh my! Well, don't feel sorry for her. Feel sorry for him. (WARNING: This was brought on by extreme boredom)


Cody was having the worst day in his artificially shortened life.

"You look like you're being tortured," Amidala hissed-somehow maintaining an angelic expression that belied the verbal insinuations of her current state of mind.

Cody gave her a look that pretty much said, _I AM BEING TORTURED!_

Amidala rolled her eyes and muttered through clenched teeth, "At least _try_ to look as if you're having a somewhat enjoyable time."

Now, I'm sure you are wondering how Cody got into this . . . predicament. The answer is quite simple. See, Senator Amidala of Naboo apparently said some . . . _degrading_ comments about the _much-loved_ GAR unit. So, to save face - as most of the GAR (scratch that. _All_ ) didn't particularly care what a spoiled, prima-donna dilettante of a senator with an obvious lower IQ than _any_ clone thought - she agreed to a . . . Actually, I am not sure what the particular agreement would be called. But, in short, she agreed to slow-dance with a clone on a live-broadcast holo-net channel.

And what unfortunate trooper, commando, or ARC was chosen to live through a day of Hell - I mean . . . have the most delightful time of his life? You guessed it!

Cody.

As you would think, Cody was ecstatic about this!

TRANSLATION: Cody threatened bloody-murder should he be forced to participate in this idiotic stunt.

Did anyone listen, though? Sadly . . . no. Even General Kenobi had roared with laughter upon hearing the news (in the 'freshers, of course, so no one could hear him). Did any of Cody's brothers come to his aid? No. (And he had holo-recording proof of Rex nearly dying of laughter over poor Cody's plight.) The only one who had argued in Cody's favor, in fact, was General Skywalker (something Cody had been fervently grateful for). Said general had snarled that it was one of the most stupid things he had ever heard of and that no person should ever be forced to do any such general idiocy.

Skywalker was ignored right along with him.

Typical.

Cody had been seriously considering defecting - possibly joining Sergeant Skirata's little gang of one-step-away-deserters, maybe? - when Kenobi had come up to him and turned on his Negotiator skills. He asked - not ordered, mind you: asked - Cody to do it for the sake of public face.

Which is how Cody found himself slow-dancing with a deceptively angelic she-devil.

"Stop grimacing," Amidala snapped - still maintaining the angelic facade.

Cody smoothed his face to a blank anonymity. Oh, how he wished for his helmet . . .

"Don't do that, either. It makes you look like an unfeeling droid."

The past one minute and twenty-six seconds, Amidala had found every possible thing wrong with Cody's dancing skills (or lack thereof). He couldn't walk right; he couldn't talk right; he couldn't not-grimace right - really, was it possible to find any more degrading -

"Don't take in such shallow breaths! Breathe evenly without any movement showing."

Apparently Cody couldn't breathe right, either.

Really, the fact that Amidala was able to keep her face so free of any anger, the fact that she was able to maintain the appearance of having-the-most-delightful-and-amazing-time-of-her-entire-life secure upon her face . . . Well, she really should look into an acting career once her term was up.

Cody glanced at the ever-growing crowd of people forming.

Oh, stang.

 _Everyone_ was there.

Kenobi. Rex. Hardcase. Hevy. Fives. Echo. Nate - point is, pretty much everyone had gathered to watch Cody's-most-hated-moment. And they were all laughing.

Okay, so Kenobi managed not to be bending over, shaking with laughter. But Cody knew his general well enough by now to tell that the slight crinkle of the eye and twitch of the mouth belied vast amusement.

The only one not in hysterics over Cody's current predicament (really, why couldn't he be somewhere else, anywhere else but here? Why?! Fierfek, he would have rather been in the front lines than in a close proximity of a woman that annoyed the stang out of him whenever she opened her mouth) was Skywalker - who, for some reason, looked vaguely ill.

"If it makes you feel better, I hate this more than you do."

 _So much for regretting callous comments about clones, eh?_

Cody didn't really hear. He was too busy staring at the commandos - fierfek, why did the _commandos_ have to be here, heckling and mocking in Mandalorian, saying who knows what?

Of course, what humiliation could be complete without ARC troopers smirking and doing their watch-my-eyebrows show?

In other words, it was a let's-all-gather-around-and-watch-Cody-make-a-fool-of-himself kind of day.

Cody couldn't take it anymore.

In a carefully calculated turn to the right and bend of the knees (all minuscule in a way that only a very observant type of person would notice), he slammed his foot down on hers. The _crunch_ of the toe bones filled his ears, and a quiet "eep" that only someone standing right next to her would hear. Nevertheless, it was gratifying.

 _So,_ a very satisfied Cody thought happily, _there's at least_ some _justice in this cesspit excuse of a galaxy._

 **A/N: He's a leeetle OoC, but hey! He can't be a stick-in-the-mud all the time! And I know this is highly unlikely, but I had a really weird dream that I wanted to explore. And Cody slow-dancing? I'd pay to see that. ;3**

 **Please review!**


End file.
